In this room so old and still,

In the corner house where the street lamps,

Touches your fading skin.

 

Dust in the corners of your mind,

Dragging shadows through the

Grinding light of this rhyme.

 

Baby won’t you stay.

 

And If I called your name

Would it still sound the same.

 

Baby won’t you stay. 

 

Baby won’t you stay.

 

It’s a dream,

An endless scheme,

Something beyond what you know,

I think you know.

 

In the corner of this room,

In the fading light,

Lies a golden lock of your hair.

 

Baby won’t you stay.

 

A moth flutters in the lamp shade memories,

Drawn to the light, the flame of dying hope.

 

Baby won’t you stay.

 

It’s a dream,

An endless scheme,

Something beyond what you know,

I think you know.

 

The chairs are empty now,

The table holds an empty cup.

 

And if I called your name, 

Would it still sound the same.

 

Baby won’t you stay.

Baby won’t you stay.